


This the one with the talking celibate thing

by thxws (monaps)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Boys Being Boys, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining Derek, Scents & Smells, Stalking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-01
Updated: 2014-11-01
Packaged: 2018-02-23 14:01:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2550143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monaps/pseuds/thxws
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>prompt from tumblr: the fire alarm went off at 3am and now the cute guy from the flat next door is standing next to me in his underwear</p>
            </blockquote>





	This the one with the talking celibate thing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bleep0bleep](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bleep0bleep/gifts).



  
For Derek Hale, living alone meant freedom to breathe, a bit of wiggle room. Despite all the love he had for his family, and all that came with their genetics, from time to time he needed to breathe and just act human, do all those boring little things that anchored him.

In all the years he spent at home, he got used to certain stuff, limitations of privacy—or lack of it—and general knowledge that everyone knew everything about everyone AND everything, no matter if they pretended not to and especially if they tried to pretend they didn’t. As a grown man, there were things he preferred to keep to himself. Even if his mother didn’t mind him living at home and let him do as he pleased when he had finally decided to move out, it still felt weird to actually leave. A pack is a pack, after all, and they were a tight, strong one. Except for Peter—the older he got, the weirder he seemed—and pack or not, some things were hard to forget. Mother advised them to wave Peter’s paranoia off, and try not to engage him into anything deeply personal. Derek learned to wave Peter off in general. He felt on his own skin, and saw it in the color of his eyes whenever he looked in the mirror, just how bad listening to Peter’s advice could get. _Never again._

Still, in the actual breathing department, Derek was surprised to find out that the only person he kinda, maybe, probably wanted to charm with his smile—was in fact not charmed one bit. The guy next door avoided him like the plague, and that couldn’t be more obvious unless he screamed it directly into his face and then slammed the door on his toes right after. Out of sixteen apartments in the building only Stiles—and he only knew the name because he eavesdropped—acted like a crazy person over him. And Derek wanted to know why, wanted to fix whatever was wrong and then invite Stiles for a coffee or something. Maybe even cook for him, because seriously, those lips were worth wooing. And, Derek wanted to woo Stiles, honest to God, romance the hell out of him in all those disgustingly overdid ways that made people roll their eyes. If only the man himself allowed him to at least say hello before turning white and running off.

Random family visits hardly helped with his obsession, especially when Cora dropped by that last time, and Stiles practically teleported away, locking the door behind himself not once but twice. Cora watched the whole thing, as funny as it was, listening to Stiles mutter ‘Oh my God’ behind the closed door. In a typical Hale fashion, she teased the life out of her ‘favorite’ brother, then bullied him into doing something about his ridiculous pining. Telling her he had already tried only resulted in her laughing her ass off until she cried, snot and everything, and then called their mother and sister, and probably all relatives in the town area, because obviously mocking him needed to be a family event. Mother told him his affections were sweet and how proud she was of him giving the people thing another try after the Kate debacle. Derek could imagine her petting his cheek and smiling at him in encouragement. It did not help.

Nothing helped actually.

The fact that Stiles had a werewolf friend just added oil to it all, and for the life of him Derek couldn’t figure out if Stiles knew about it. The friend in question looked oblivious to his presence to the point where Derek worried if maybe the werewolf didn’t even know about being the werewolf part? Which—yes, as unlikely as moon taking a vacation. Derek addressed his concerns with mother as any smart beta would but she just told him not to worry and that they—the werewolf whose name was not shared and mother, the alpha—had a mutual friend who guaranteed there was no danger in kid prancing around without an alpha. Derek didn’t agree which lead him to occasionally following Stiles around. For safety reasons. Mostly for reasons. Secret reasons.

Even if he managed to explain his behavior as being vigilant and making sure no maiming happened in the building where he lived while the hunter family nested in the town, he couldn’t justify listening in while Stiles was alone in his room, dancing and singing, and cooking and—and stuff. No excuses. Derek tried to come up with something but his instincts had a mind of their own and ignoring the fact that he had, indeed, turned into a stalker, definitely a master creeper—a lot like his uncle Peter, for God’s sake—made him feel all kinds of guilty. It couldn’t get worse if he tried.

Except, it got worse.

Stiles had that annoying habit of doing things his own way and often made Derek question his sanity. Jerking off in the shower? Nah, Stiles had no problems with doing it on the balcony or with the windows wide open, letting the scent waft in Derek’s direction, and not even trying to be quiet about it. Taking Derek’s detergent from the laundry room? Of course, if it’s around it’s for everyone. As if Derek can be blamed if he gets distracted by familiar scent rubbed all over the tiny room and leaves half the things behind—laundry softener, and the green arrow sock included. Derek preferred to forget about that one time when their clothes ended in the same washer and Stiles used his own detergent. He ended in his childhood bed, whimpering pathetically, just to put some distance and don’t embarrass himself in public. His mother told him he was strong but in reality he was a coward.

That one time when he sat on the windowsill and tried to read was the worst day by far. Stiles talked about someone—someone not Derek—and what he would do to him in graphic details. The book didn’t survive it, the windowsill suffered too. Derek had to scrub his own blood off his beige carpet and curse himself into oblivion. That was deeply shameful evening for all parties involved because he had a weird feeling Stiles heard him, the cat in the back garden heard him for sure. He still had no idea if the guy a building over saw him ripping into curtains. Better if he didn’t know.

Still, Derek knew nothing about the meaning of word ‘worse’ until his sister broke up with her boyfriend.

Because, when you have a bored baby sister who likes to mess with you with no reason whatsoever, of course things could get worse, of course they would too. In the way of fire alarm, at 3 am, on one Monday morning.

His ears ringed painfully while he walked down the stairs, following a couple of elderly people and a wobbling kid that insisted he can walk down the stairs on his own, and he promised himself he would wring Cora’s neck as soon as possible, punishment be damned. Cora cackled and ran away, the devil, wishing him a fun night. Whatever that meant.

He didn’t really look around when everyone got out the building, just shuffled his way to the first wall to lean against. If he had no choice but to stay awake and stand outside, the least he could do was get comfortable. Then, like in some chick flick he’s a man enough to admit watching, he heard steps coming closer and he looked up to glare at the person bothering him. And, somehow, Stiles was just there, standing still—right in front of him and looking at him like he wanted to figure him out—in his orange and blue stripped underwear.

Derek stared, then stared some more. Now, when he had Stiles in front of him, close enough to grab and do things to—and with barely any clothes on—the Hale charm he was famous for took off and left him stranded, all alone to improvise, with nothing he could really use in his favor.

“What?” Stiles’ voice had an impatient note to it. “Have you never seen a guy go reverse commando?!”

It was hard not to smile at that, at the indignation in Stiles’ stance when he raised a brow at him, and the warning thick with promise of punishment if Derek laughed or mocked him. “So that’s how you call it. I thought it’s just your fashion statement. Going minimalistic.”

“Oh, there is nothing minimalistic about my statement.” Stiles huffed at him and scratched his tummy, his shirt raising up just the tiniest bit and showing a trail of hair disappearing under the hem of his briefs. At that moment, Derek hated him and wanted him, and the world was a cruel, cruel place, because he could hear the police siren approaching and the Sheriff shared the same last name with Stiles, which meant no funny business anytime soon.

“I wouldn’t know. My neighbor is tight lipped about things. I’d be willing to hear all about it over the coffee though.”

Stiles’ forever racing heart picked up its pace just that bit more, hammering in his chest, his scent warm cinnamon and dark chocolate. It took Derek all of his hard earned self control not to step closer and bury his nose in the crook of Stiles’ neck and breathe, breathe, breathe. But, he had stayed just where he was, leaning against the wall, and smiling smugly when Stiles swallowed hard and nodded.

“I’m… uh, yeah, the whole talking celibate thing I had going on? Done. Not doing it again. I’m so over it. I’m so over it, I may be taking a trip to the moon how over it I am and you know, that’s—Coffee. Yeah. I could go for a—actually no, I’ll get a milkshake. Aaaaand you may regret me talking in a minute.”

Listening to Stiles stumble over his words in person looked entertaining but even so, Derek couldn’t help the snort or two that escaped him.

“Sorry. I’ll shut up now.”

**Author's Note:**

> if you want to talk or take over the world, you can also find me on [tumblr](http://thxws.tumblr.com)


End file.
